He’s the Strictly Come Dancing bad boy who’s just as ready to rumble as rhumba, but Brendan Cole tells Nathan Bevan he only wants to entertain

THERE are a lot of comparisons between Wales and New Zealand, says Brendan Cole.

First of all there’s the similarly breathtaking scenery, and secondly the image of both as being countries full of tough, macho men.

So, if you’re a young lad practising his Cha Cha Cha in Christchurch, you can probably expect the same amount of stick as if you’re learning the Viennese Waltz in the Valleys then?

“Damn right, mate,” laughs the Strictly Come Dancing dynamo, in Cardiff this week with his solo show Live And Unjudged.

“It most definitely wasn’t the normal route for a sport-loving, little Kiwi to take.

“And I hated being dragged to those classes when I was a kid, but when you’re six you kind of have to do what your mum tells you.

“I got a lot of rubbish about it at school too. Not bullying as such, but a lot of ribbing and teasing.

“I didn’t really have that many school mates. But, after a while, it dawned on me that, good or bad, I really just loved the attention I was getting.

“And when the competitive aspect of the dancing kicked in I was completely sold,” he added.’

But Brendan admits to having always been a bit of a square peg in that world, working in the decidedly unglamorous building trade by day until he started dancing professionally in the early Noughties.

“I think the juxtaposition of those two very different worlds sums up me as a person,” says the 34-year-old who grafted as a carpenter before and after he made the move to the UK, aged 19.

“You can get a lot of stick from people who see you dance and think you must be gay, so when you’re not you always strive to disprove it.

“As a result I was like, ‘Look mate, I’m a builder, all right’,” he says, aping a laddish, puffed-up swagger.

“In truth though, that’s what I’d always wanted to be, ever since I was a little ’un hammering and banging on whatever I could get my hands on.”

But destiny saw him become a big noise on our TV screens instead, making him a household name as the bad boy of ballroom that everyone loves to hate all within a few short years – even if he was unsure about taking the Strictly gig at first.

“I was very dubious to be honest,” adds the hip-shaking Latin American expert.

“The media had always portrayed ballroom as either stiff-upper lip and cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off, or the domain of crazy competitive mums plastering make-up on their seven- year-olds and pushing them into the spotlight.

“That’s not to say when I was starting out there weren’t a fair few batty mothers who’d willingly break another kid’s legs in order to ensure their child got first place,” Brendan laughs.

“But, when Strictly producers explained what they wanted, I saw it as the perfect opportunity to change those perceptions and show people that dancing is all about a man and a woman creating something beautiful together.”

Although no-one could have predicted what a huge ratings success it would be.

“Mate, I’d have been happy if 10 people had tuned in,” he smiles.

“But to be here, eight years later, with 15 million watching and the show sold to 30-something countries around the world? It’s phenomenal.”

How does he feel about being as famed for his tantrums as his tangos though?

“I’m not a wallflower, never have been, never will be,” he says.

“So if you put up to 50 hours a week into perfecting one dance only for some b***** idiot, if you excuse the expression, to slag it off then it hurts you emotionally.

“It’s live TV with millions watching, so you’re going to react, stand up for yourself – or at least I am.”

But didn’t he invite his arch enemy, the Simon Cowell of sequins, Strictly judge Craig Revel Horwood to his wedding to 29-year-old model Zoe Hobbs last summer?

“Craig’s a great pal actually and no matter what’s said on camera in the heat of the moment – and it can go too far – you always shake hands afterwards.”

Then of course there’s his reputation as a bit of a ladies’ man.

“Dunno what you’re talking about there,” grins Brendan, who’s been dogged with the lothario tag ever since rumours abounded that he’d had a fling with series one contestant Natasha Kaplinsky, a scandal that caused his long term-partner both on and off the dance floor Camilla Dallerup to call off their engagement.

“I went from being in a relationship to being a single fella on one of TV’s biggest shows, and since then I’ve been paired up with, how shall I say, the more glam of the female contestants.

“I reckon the BBC know what they’re doing and the folks at home seem to like it.”

Doesn’t he feel bad not giving Anton Du Beke a fair crack of the whip in partnering up with the eye-candy though?

“Ha, not one bit,” he hoots. “Anton’s the show’s comic relief and utterly brilliant at it.

“I never could have gone as far as he did with someone like Anne Widdecombe, and I doubt he’d have been the most popular draw on the last series had he been paired with a more adept dancer.”

Brendan says that while he hopes to be asked back for the next series of Strictly, he wouldn’t “sit around crying about it” if not, and that this solo tour is his first chance to show 100% the real him.

“I’ve overseen everything from the catering to the curtains, it drives the wife nuts,” he sighs.

“But it’s my name above the door, and if the punters walk out going, ‘Well, that was average’, then I’ll be the one who cops the flak.

“And I’ve been called many things, mate, but average isn’t one of them.”